


Of the Fae Variety

by Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22635976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron/pseuds/Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron
Summary: Arthur overhears someone refer to Merlin as 'of the fae variety' and takes it literally.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 620





	Of the Fae Variety

It made sense.

Why did it make sense? He didn’t know but it did. It just, it simply did. All those ‘coincidences’. All those things that Arthur called him stupid for. Of course- of course! It was all so simple now. So stupidly simple.

Merlin was a fae. 

There. Simple. He wasn’t human. Why would he be? How on earth, come to think of it, had Arthur ever actually thought he was? Just the way Merlin looked was unnatural. Those ears, which, actually he didn’t think had a point to it, but they were certainly outlandish enough to warrant a curious speculation over. His skin then, that was unusual. Everyone and anyone Arthur met had some blemish or another. It was just the price people paid for staying alive. Pox marks, scars, rashes, spots even, Arthur saw them on everyone he passed. Everyone but Merlin.

Arthur had checked too. Not in a weird way, but he’d often, in those first few days, looked for something to chat to Merlin about that wasn’t a list of chores. Call him soft, but Arthur wasn’t just going to ignore someone hovering in his room for hours on end. So he’d looked. It had been summer so shirts hadn’t necessarily stayed on for most of the castle, meaning Arthur could check to his hearts content if there were a scar here or there that he could ask Merlin about. Bond with Merlin about.

But there hadn’t been. There’d been nothing. No small spot on his back, no cluster of scars on his face, nothing. Merlin was smoother than anyone Arthur had ever seen. Save Morgana, but she had a few scars from scuffling about with Arthur when they were children. 

The point was that his skin wasn’t normal. Nor was the way he walked or interacted with the world around him. Who couldn’t run a bath? Who took three hours to bring someone dinner? No one. Not if they’d been born human anyway. Arthur knew things were different in the magical realm. Did fae’s eat? If they did Arthur doubted they cooked for themselves. They probably bathed in hot springs too, no need for metal or wooden tubs. 

Then there was Hunith. She kept going on about how special Merlin was. Not to Arthur, although she did like to talk her son up to him whenever he had a spare ear. But he’d overheard them talking, her and Merlin. He hadn’t meant to, but Ealdor was a small place, and with battle on the horizon there weren’t many places Arthur could sit and gather his thoughts about him. So he’d heard Hunith and her worries. How she told Merlin he was a special boy. Maybe she was some sort of guardian over him, or maybe she was his mother. Arthur was pretty sure over the years he’d heard a few tales of fae’s consorting with humans, it was perfectly logical that Merlin could be half. Maybe he’d spent the majority of his childhood in the fae realm? Who knew. 

Certainly not Arthur. 

The point was that it was increasingly obvious the more he thought about it that Merlin wasn’t normal. That Arthur had been blind, or, maybe just not wanting to accept what was in front of him, since he’d always had a feeling there was something off about Merlin. 

Regardless, he knew now. Merlin was a fae. 

Now the problem was what to do with that information.

It would have been alright if he’d come to that conclusion on his own. However, it wasn’t just finally connecting things together that made Arthur realise just how unusual his manservant was. No, he’d learned it after wandering around the kitchens for something to eat. He’d known it would take until well after dark for his actual meal to come, and since the cooks didn’t mind, he hoped, that he maybe asked for a little thing or two to tide him over until then he’d went to do just that. Except he’d found himself stopped when Merlin’s name wandered over to him from a few passing maids. That and they mentioned that Merlin was ‘of the fae variety’.

Meaning they knew. Others knew. Or at least suspected that Merlin wasn’t what he said he was which wasn’t good. He’d fled, however, before he could see their faces, coming back to his room where, until now, he’d been slowly realising that their passing words held more truth than anyone in Camelot needed to admit to.

He had to do something.

A strange concept perhaps but Merlin was harmless. He’d been in Arthur’s charge for three years now and if he were going to do something surely he would have by now. Meaning Merlin wasn’t here to endanger Arthur. In fact, now that he thought about it, Arthur was pretty sure Merlin had saved his life a few times. No one who was going to turn around and stab someone later would save their lives in the present. They just- it made no sense. 

Sure, maybe he should have been a little worried. If Merlin was, and Arthur was pretty sure now, a fae, then, that meant he was of the magical realm. That he maybe... had magic. But again, what need did Arthur have of murdering Merlin if he meant no harm. Arthur wasn’t stupid, no matter what people said, he knew a good man when he saw one, and Merlin was just that, a good man. He didn’t deserve whatever might be waiting for him at the executioners block. Which meant Arthur truly had to start thinking about how he was going to handle this.

Maybe he could make Merlin flee. Or show him how to better hide himself. Gaius would know. Gaius would definitely know.

“Dinner,” Merlin announced, the door clanging against his arm as he tried to shoulder it with a tray.

“Not now,” he strode past Merlin, “But leave it on my desk for when I come back.”

“Something wrong?” Called after him.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he waved off, hoping Merlin would content himself with readying the rest of the room instead of following him. “I’ll be back shortly.” Hopefully, and hopefully with better knowledge of how to tackle this new problem.

Gaius was taking inventory when Arthur knocked, his usual heavy tome in hand and a squint to his eyes that told Arthur to make it quick.

“It’s about Merlin,” which immediately granted him entry. “Well, sort of.” Maybe Gaius didn’t know. Merlin said Hunith had sent him to Camelot. Maybe Gaius was as in the dark about Merlin’s true nature as the rest of the castle. “It’s actually about fae’s. I need you to tell me everything you know of them.”

The tome closed with a heavy puff, Gaius setting it down with a bang as he immediately went to his shelves, “I take it something’s happened.”

“Maybe,” best leave it as vague as he could. “Nothing you need to worry yourself about.”

Gaius gave him another look as he set three very large, very heavy, books in front of him. “We’ll see.” he opened the first, stopping at a rather gruesome image of people being tortured. “Depending on the type of fae you’ve encountered,” since of course Gaius would immediately think Arthur had pissed one off, “there’s not a lot of specifics I can give you.”

Well that was useful. “What if I don’t know the type of fae I encountered?” Gnomes? Sprites? The book listed at least twenty different types, and since Arthur had seen, well, none of them in person, he didn’t quite know where to place Merlin. “Can you just give me the general overview of as many as you can?”

Another look, “It may take a while sire, but I believe I can.” and he did. For a good who knew how long Arthur sat there, the sky growing dark and Arthur getting more antsy. 

Apparently fae’s were a troublesome and very strict sort of people. Arthur, if he ever encountered a fae again, wasn’t to eat anything they offered him. Or sleep near them, or accept any gifts, or just do anything normal around them at all. Fae food was imbued with magic apparently, and meant to trick mortals into staying in the fae realm for the rest of their natural lives. Gifts were tricks too. Which made Arthur feel awful because he could recall a good few many times over the years where Merlin had fed and gifted him things. 

Yet he was still here so maybe that was something?

He didn’t know. All he did know was that his life was about to get even more difficult because, apparently, he couldn’t just outright reject Merlin’s ‘gifts’ and ‘foods’ and whatever because fae’s were the most ridiculous creatures he’d ever heard of. They apparently got offended if their gifts were rejected, and an offended fae was a nasty thing to incur the wrath of. So maybe Arthur had done the right thing in accepting Merlin’s gifts.

But, then why was there a warning about not accepting them urgh!

He learned other things too. Things he knew about from listening to his father drone on and on about over his life. Things like tricks fae’s liked to play. Kidnappings.... wait. That one struck his interest. Mainly because Gaius said the fae’s hung around their human until they had the right opportunity to snatch them. 

“Usually they’re children or pregnant women. You’ve heard of changelings haven’t you sire?”

He had. Children that were swapped at birth with a sickly fae child. He’d heard all about how difficult it was to stop a fae from snatching their chosen child too. How the mothers had to stand vigil at their child’s crib every night just so nothing would happen. How they had to enchant their home with herbs and smells that would keep a fae out. Things that got a little too close to sorcery and had Uther sniffing at their door.

Arthur had always hated when those cases came to court.

“Do they ever take others?” Arthur asked. “Men?” 

Gaius pursed his lips. “Usually they take women to be their mortal wives back in the fae world. But they’ve been known to take men too. Fae’s aren’t too picky with gender sire. Especially when it comes to orgies.”

Arthur pretended he hadn’t heard that word come out of Gaius’s mouth as he focused on the fact that men were, sometimes, taken. “What are the symptoms? How does someone know if they’re going to be taken?”

Gaius shook his head, “They often don’t sire. Fae’s are a tricky people, as I’ve said. However, it has been noted that sometimes the fae’s will try and court their mortals before they’re taken back to the fae realm.”

Courted? “And what sort of courtship are we talking about here?”

Gaius thought for a moment before saying, “Gifts randomly appearing. A stranger in town hanging about their chosen person. Maybe saving them from harm, keeping them happy.”

Things Merlin maybe wasn’t doing but he was certainly trying to. “And... and fae’s in this realm. What, I mean, would they have a specific look about them?”

Gaius shrugged, Arthur feeling a little bad asking all these questions. It was obvious he didn’t know a lot on the subject. Arthur doubted anyone did. Still, Gaius was trying. “I suppose they would be a little clumsier. They may not grasp what is normal in this world too. I would look out for unusual things if I were you sire.”

He nodded, thinking of other questions to go over just as the door went, “you’ll never- Arthur,” Merlin. “What are you doing here? I thought- I mean, you said you wouldn’t be long, I’ve been stood there for hours.”

Damn. Okay, “Er,” did he apologise? Would that be weird? He’d never apologised before, and Arthur was all for keeping on Merlin’s good side but he wasn’t sure he wanted everything out in the open. Especially in front of Gaius. 

So he ended up standing up and walking out, neither a word to any of them. 

Merlin caught up with him eventually, and, as usual, asked a tirade of questions that Arthur honestly didn’t have the mental capacity to comprehend right now. He was tempted to tell Merlin to shut up, but Gaius’s warnings flitted through his head. “You must be tired,” Arthur said instead, “Why don’t you have an early night? I’m fine, I swear, I just wanted to know a few things about a creature someone from the lower town mentioned the other day.”

Merlin gave him a look, one that eerily looked like the one Gaius gave, before dropping the subject. “I guess I could do with an early night.”

“That’s the spirit.”

It was certainly easier thinking without Merlin there. In his empty chambers Arthur could sit there and puzzle out this mystery on his own. 

Then realised when morning came and he woke with his head on his desk that he didn’t so much think as sleep last night. Great. 

Something was put down in front of him, “Well, well, well, look who’s finally waking at the right time,” Merlin grinned, striding to the curtains to fling them back, “Maybe I should put you to bed at your desk every night if you actually wake up on your own.”

“Shut up Merlin,” was his immediate response, his hand already outstretched towards his breakfast when Gaius’s words from last night sounded in his ear again. He shouldn’t eat fae food should he. Or, probably, tell one to shut up.

He pushed the plate a little away, ignoring the temptation of slightly warm sausages to go look for his boots. He had things to do today. Things like telling Morgana that she couldn’t, in fact, start taking more food from the kitchens to the street kids. At least so obviously. He’d always told her if she was going to do something like this then do it in a way his father wouldn’t catch wind of it. 

Looked like they were going to have to revisit that conversation again.

“Is there something wrong?” Came behind him, Arthur turning to see Merlin peering down at his abandoned breakfast. “You’re not ill are you?”

Oh no. “No, not ill,” who knew what being ill might incite. Merlin could think him weak enough to be dragged to the fae realm. 

“Then what is it?” Merlin asked, the plate firmly in his hands again and coming closer towards Arthur with every step, “I had the cook make it special for you.”

It wasn’t even a good breakfast was the thing. None of the breakfasts Merlin brought him were remotely good. They were almost always cold, since Merlin got up later than the rest of the castle and by the time he’d gone to the kitchens Arthur’s breakfast had been sitting out for a good who knew how long. The food itself was nothing spectacular either. He’d had better. Yet Merlin called it special.

Or... maybe he meant as in a gift? That it wasn’t the food itself but the gesture of Merlin doing menial labour in fetching it for him that was a gift to him... or something? 

Damn. “Oh, er, you know,” Gaius said not to reject gifts. To be wary of them but also not to reject them. Was this... how did he handle this? “You know what, I just thought I’d get ready before eating. Feel fresh and all that.”

Merlin’s eyes narrowed a little. Fuck, fae’s could smell lies couldn’t they? Gaius had said something about lies last night. 

He felt his breath coming short. “I have to go.” He strode out before Merlin could say anything, sprinting as soon as his feet hit the stone until he was hiding amongst the battlements.

The knights sent him in before dark, thanking him for spending a day making sure they were alright. Maybe not why he’d went up there but Arthur couldn’t deny it was more productive listening to his knights tell him all about their many, many struggles than telling Morgana off for feeding poor children.

He also got to spit over the battlements which he’d always loved doing, a few of the knights challenging each other to try and aim for the dark puddle that was a little to the left of the hay bale.

When he got back he’d forgot about this morning. So much so that he didn’t remember there should be something wrong with his nightly routine until he was sitting in his bath watching Merlin attempt to make his bed. 

That’s right, Merlin was...

He was here. In Arthur’s room. For some reason or another in this realm and seeming to spend a lot of time with Arthur giving him gifts and doing things for him. What was Merlin planning? It wasn’t like Arthur could give him children. 

Right?

He was pretty sure he’d know if he could. Supposedly. Probably.

Except, he could give Merlin children, he realised. Just, not the weird way he was thinking before. Arthur had to get married some day, and Merlin was always rather snippy around the princesses that were sometimes brought to court for his hand. Maybe he was checking them out, seeing which one would carry the right Pendragon child he wanted to whisk away.

“Here.”

Arthur jumped, catching Merlin’s eyes above him as the man held his hands still a hairs breadth away from Arthur’s shoulders. 

“Are you alright?” Merlin asked, a little more heat in his voice.

“Fine,” Arthur barked, forcing himself to relax. He was fine. He was definitely fine. That was a truth, definitely a truth. “Just, distracted.”

“Obviously,” Merlin snorted, his hands finally landing on Arthur’s shoulders. 

As much as he wanted to rear away Arthur didn’t. He forced himself to sit still and let Merlin feel along his back for any new aches and pains that might have occurred throughout the day. Maybe a little too still since Merlin was frowning when he finally came to Arthur’s front, his hands still exploring Arthur’s shoulders and chest.

“You can talk to me you know,” Merlin said.

About his unborn child Merlin was going to steal from him? About he, himself, that Merlin might want to steal away? About the fact that Merlin had lied to him? That he was still lying to him? “Why don’t you go first?” Ballsy, maybe, but Arthur realised he wasn’t as completely fine with this as he thought he was.

It made sense, sure, but after it made sense in his mind what did that leave? 

There was a beat of silence as Merlin’s eyes darkened above him. Arthur had done something wrong hadn’t he? He was such an idiot. Betrayed he might feel, but this wasn’t just Merlin in front of him anymore, this was the real Merlin. The one with the power to do who knew what to him if he pissed Merlin off. He had to navigate this carefully. Far more carefully than he had been. So he quickly cut off whatever Merlin was gearing himself up for with an, “Morgana’s been feeding the street children again. Father’s making me tell her to stop.”

Merlin sank back onto his haunches, “Oh,” he kept his eyes down as his hands started up again. “I’m sorry.”

“I just wish he wouldn’t make me tell her things that shouldn’t have to be told. Those children need our help, I don’t understand why he’s so upset with them eating the food the kitchens don’t use.” They wasted more than they used. Some of it went to the kitchen staff and their families, but the rest was just thrown out. Perfectly good food too. But Uther had always been of a mind that a prosperous king was a king with scraps on the table. How could those things be called scraps if they were used to feed a kingdom that should already be able to sustain themselves?

“Are you going to tell her?” Merlin asked after a while. 

Arthur felt his lips twist. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Maybe if we could come up with a better system I wouldn’t have to tell her.”

There was a small grin when Arthur looked up.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Merlin brushed away quickly.

Ordinarily he’d try and believe Merlin. In this instance he wasn’t so sure. Had he... passed some sort of test or something? Shown he wasn’t some mad man who wanted to see children dying on the streets? He was pretty sure anyone with an ounce of decency, barring Uther, would think the same so, what exactly made Arthur so special?

The question plagued him all throughout his bath and after. Through the meal he forced down and prayed to whatever God was listening wouldn’t land him in a different realm when he woke. Through getting dressed for bed, although considering he hadn’t really changed out of his night clothes that morning he was already ready for bed. In bed was no different. What set Arthur apart? Was it because he was a Pendragon? Uther’s son? Was it some sort of revenge?

Maybe.

People had done stuff like this before. But again why wait so long? Why genuinely try and help him? Why do all of this if he wanted revenge?

So, maybe it wasn’t revenge, maybe it was the other thing. The... _sex_ thing. 

Was he being groomed? He wondered during lunch the next day if that was it. If Merlin was getting him ready to be taken home to join whatever sex group he had waiting for him in the fae realm. Arthur, well, he wasn’t bad looking. He liked to think he was rather good looking actually. Maybe the fae’s had noticed as well. 

He was, well, he was flattered of course. But, he didn’t really want to leave Camelot. He had things to do here. A kingdom to inherit and someday run. If he went off into the bloody unknown what would happen to his kingdom? 

“Here,” Merlin slid his newly punctured belt onto the table. “Good as new.”

“Thanks,” he said absentmindedly, tying it around his waist before realising that accepting gifts might just be telling Merlin all the things he wanted to hear, all the signs he needed to start preparing to take Arthur away. He had to start rejecting them. A fae’s wrath or not, Arthur couldn’t be taken from his people, from Morgana even. Who would look out for her if he went to a different realm to be Merlin’s sex puppet?

He had to start handling this. Now he knew what he was handling he should be able to curb Merlin’s desire until it tapered off... and then he tapered off back to the fae realm.

Hmm.

He started the next day. As much as he didn’t want Merlin to leave, he knew his duty was to his people, not Merlin, so when it came to breakfast, Arthur told him, “I actually already ate, but thank you,” a kind way of refusing a gift. Just like the others he implemented throughout the day. Like having people doing their actual jobs instead of getting Merlin to do it out of spite. He got the maids in to change his bedding and start on his washing. He got the other servants in to clean his chambers and wipe his trophies down, and Merlin he had doing actual manservant duties, like fetching him water when he needed it in training.

“Are you upset with me?” Merlin asked later.

Arthur was sitting eating a meal that he’d had one of the other servants bring up. “Why would you say that?”

Merlin gestured around him.

Arthur looked around like he didn’t see what was different. 

“Oh for- my duties Arthur! Are you firing me or something?” he asked a little more timidly.

Arthur swallowed his chicken, wondering how to word this so Merlin couldn’t hear the lie in his words, “I’m not firing you,” but he was trying to subtly nudge Merlin away from him, “I’m just correcting something I should have a long time ago. I may have mislead you in what your duties were as my manservant. But don’t worry, that’s all going to change.”

Merlin’s mouth bobbed for a moment before he turned away, hands clutching the pitcher Arthur had only allowed him to get after fetching it himself the first few times. This was for the best, Arthur told himself. 

It was a while before Merlin turned back to him. There was a careful look on his face as he slowly asked, “So what are those things then?”

Arthur nodded to the chair opposite himself before starting on Merlin’s actual duties. They weren’t too much different. Merlin still dressed him, still did some manual labour, but his role as Arthur’s manservant was to be his first call of address in the morning and the evening. To be a confidante, of a sort, someone who Arthur could send out to do jobs for other people, or deliver important messages. He was also sort of in charge of the servants Merlin probably hadn’t known were solely in Arthur’s employ. 

“You tell me if there’s a problem and I tell you to put them to work when I need them to,” Arthur finished with, Merlin looking suitably overwhelmed when he was finished.

“That’s... certainly a little different,” Merlin admitted.

Slightly less cruel too. He would apologise for making Merlin do all that except, well, he didn’t really apologise did he? His father always told him apologies were for those lower than him. Still, “I’m sorry.” He was, and had this not all needed to be rectified he probably would have let Merlin continue to be run into the ground for the rest of his life. “I’ve been unfair to you and I really am sorry Merlin.”

He nodded, voice sounding a little dry as he asked, “Can I go?”

Arthur thought he could see the beginnings of whatever bond Merlin thought they had start to break. “Generally you stay until I fall asleep. Actually you’re supposed to sleep in the room with me, but, sure, you can go.”

Merlin didn’t question again, hopping up and out of the room, another servant taking his place to finish serving Arthur the rest of the evening.

The next stage of his plan started when Merlin tried to woo him in different ways. Now he wasn’t so exhausted all the time, something Arthur was beginning to regret, Merlin had time to think up ways to, in his own way, win Arthur over. Flowers started appearing in his chambers, and Arthur wasn’t believing for one moment that Merlin hadn’t thought about him when he picked them. “Well I mean I did,” Merlin didn’t even deny, “But it was only because I remembered how upset you were the last time I picked flowers for Morgana instead of you so I got you both some.”

Sure.

Then there were the other little ‘gifts’. The new oils Merlin had the servants fetched now he knew he could flex a little power. “I told them something with honey in it since you seem to like it a lot. Mary said she knew just the thing so,” there they were, Merlin rubbing honey scented oil into Arthur’s back like he was seasoning him for the spit. 

After the oils came the proposals Merlin slid his way. If he even bothered with them. The other day Arthur saw Merlin outright steer Morgana towards one of the back doors to the castle that only the rare servant used. The two of them were feeding children until dusk, Merlin catching his eye half way through the afternoon to cheekily wave up to him.

Damn.

Which meant Arthur was forced to move onto this part of the plan. The part where he started dropping hints even Merlin could follow that, “You know Camelot means the world to me. I don’t know what I’d do if I had to leave.”

“Okay,” or maybe not.

Two days after when they were out for a ride, Arthur unsure if this had been Merlin or his own idea, he dropped, “I don’t think I could survive anywhere else. There’s just something so right about Camelot. Something I don’t think I’d find anywhere else.”

Merlin hummed on the back of his horse, his face twisting as he said, “I thought the same about Ealdor. I guess you just grow to like somewhere new if you live there long enough.”

Idiot.

“I don’t want to leave Merlin,” Arthur said a few nights after when Merlin suggested they go check on one of the neighbouring villages. “I like Camelot. This is my home, nowhere else.”

Merlin held his hands up, “I’ll just tell them no then.”

He wasn’t getting it. That or he was outright refusing to listen to Arthur. 

He couldn’t do this, he just, he couldn’t. Not anymore. Merlin was adamant. Merlin was the most adamant person he’d ever met, and he had magic. Who knew what he could do to make Arthur lose his will. 

He just-

Urgh.

“You’re such an idiot,” Morgana sighed, her spoon stirring slowly in her stew. 

“I know.” Thankfully Merlin and Gwen were gone on some sort of adventure, meaning the two of them were alone to have this conversation. “I know I’m an idiot, but he’s a fae. What the fuck do I do with that? I’ve tried to get him off the scent for weeks now and nothing. It’s like he’s refusing to listen.”

She gave him a dark look. “You know maybe this isn’t about Merlin at all. If you’re so uncomfortable with him being a fae then it looks like you’re the one with the problem here, not him. I mean, has he outright told you that he wants you?”

Well, “No. But-”

“It’s a yes or no answer Arthur,” she said before he could start on the ways Merlin had subtly tried to tell him he was interested in whisking him to some eternal orgy. “And it looks like it’s a no. So either you get comfortable with him, or you fire him. But know if you fire him over this, I’ll never forgive you. Merlin’s a sweet boy. Much sweeter than you deserve to be around. Just because he has some odd behaviours doesn’t mean he’s dangerous.”

Not dangerous? “Morgana _he’s a fae_.”

She gave him a look. “The more you speak the less respect I have for you.”

He grunted, tossing his spoon in his stew. Except that meant it went everywhere and Arthur looked like even more of an idiot. 

He just couldn’t win.

But he did take something from his talk with Morgana back with him. Merlin hadn’t actually outright said he wanted to kidnap Arthur. So maybe he didn’t. Maybe someone else was on his radar and Arthur just so happened to be close to them.

Maybe it was Morgana.

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

“But you think she’s pretty?” Arthur pressed the next day.

“I mean, she’s Morgana,” Merlin shrugged, back to Arthur as he sorted through the linen the other servants had just brought up. “I’m pretty sure everyone thinks she’s pretty.”

“But _you_ think she’s pretty?”

Merlin shrugged again, “I guess.”

Not Morgana then.

Gwen?

... _Gaius?_

He couldn’t find anyone that Merlin had more of an interest in than Arthur himself. Which meant that it was Arthur. Which meant that Merlin did want him. Which meant that at some point Arthur was going to find himself sucked into a realm he may never escape from.

Wonderful.

It looked like he was going to have to go onto another part of his plan. One he hadn’t thought he’d need to implement since, well, at this point he was sort of hoping Merlin would get the hint. He should have guessed the man was too determined to be put off by a few hiccups.

So Arthur, the next morning, did his best to look like the most unattractive man that ever lived. Hard, he knew, but his kingdom was on the line. 

He belched, he passed gas, he frequently tossed Merlin around so much the man started glaring at him half way through the day. He ordered Merlin around, made him do some menial labour that he forced Merlin to not get out of by using his new underlings and generally tried to be a prat.

He thought it was working. Then he saw the new tunic that had been laid across his bed. “What’s this?” he squeaked. It was honestly rather nice. Red, breezy, soft to the touch, something practical he could wear everyday really.

“Oh,” Merlin said, coming around the corner, “Your old one got ripped when the washing basket fell, so I got you a new one. It’s okay, right? I know you liked the red one.”

Damn it. Damn it!

He set the shirt back down, retreating to his window for a few minutes to collect himself. It looked like he was going to have to up the stakes. Meaning, “why don’t we go hunting?”

“Hunting?” there it was. That face. That disgusted look of murdering ‘innocent animals just for the fun of it’, look. He finally knew why Merlin had that look now. Fae’s loved and protected wildlife, meaning who knew how many times Arthur had offended Merlin by murdering precious fluffy rabbits when they were out hunting or on a quest. 

“Come on Merlin, it’s fun.” and certain to never have Merlin give him lovey eyes for the next week. Just enough time for him to come up with a few more plans. 

“Don’t you have things to do here? Duties? Training?” Merlin pressed.

Arthur waved them all off, “Father understands the need to get away sometimes, and nothing life threatening is happening here at the moment. He won’t mind if we take a few afternoons off to scour the forests.”

Merlin made another face. Then complained. Then made a face and complained. He even tried to get one of his underlings to take his place, but, as Arthur reminded him, a manservants job was by his masters side, and right now Merlin’s master wanted to be in the woods with a crossbow so Merlin needed to be there too.

He wasn’t happy. Merlin wasn’t happy at all, and honestly the hunt didn’t cheer Arthur up either.

The knights that came with them loved it, but Arthur himself couldn’t find any of the usual joy he had when out with his friends in the middle of nowhere. This fae thing was really getting him down.

What was worse was that it looked like he was going to have to suffer through it for an even longer time since Merlin wasn’t giving up the hunt. Even after he’d witnessed Arthur killing animals he stayed by Arthur’s side, rubbing his shoulders every night and telling him he was both a good man and the worst person to walk the earth in the same sentence.

He didn’t know what to do, and honestly he didn’t think there was anything he could do. There was a reason his father hated fae, they were a relentless species that knew means ordinary people did not. They got what they wanted, they knew how to get what they wanted, and only those that were truly lucky managed to evade or outsmart them. If that was even what happened. Arthur was pretty sure in a few circumstances the fae’s merely turned their attentions to others who were easier or more attractive to catch.

So that was it. At some point in his life Arthur was no longer going to be here. He was going to be taken, by Merlin, into a realm he was never going to come out of.

He felt like crying.

He started taking long walks around Camelot when he finally accepted there was no way out. Memorising the old villages, the market, the castle and all its weird passageways. He listened more intently to his father, asking after stories that the man hadn’t told since Arthur was younger and more inclined to believe the fanciful tales of blood and slaughter his father laid out before him. He had lunch with Morgana more often, wondering who would care for her when he was gone. Maybe he could make a deal with Merlin that he send someone to look after her. Someone to make sure that she stayed out of Uther’s eye.

Maybe it was asking too much, he didn’t know. But when the time came, he’d ask anyway. 

He asked Leon to the tavern a few nights in a row. It was remarkable how much had changed since they were younger. It used to be that the two of them were never away from here, Arthur asking after all the tales Leon had of his quests, and wondering when it would be him Leon nudged the shoulder of to ask if he remembered such and such. 

He’d miss his life. He didn’t want to go.

“You’re glum,” Merlin told him one morning.

The pair of them had the rare day to themselves. Arthur had no duties until the following morning, and Merlin, since Arthur had the day off, was left to lounge around with him until something exciting cropped up. “I’m not glum. I’m pensive. There’s a difference.”

Merlin hummed, “Sure.” his boot toed at Arthur’s leg, “What’s got you glum then?”

Arthur sighed, slouching further into his window nook. “It’s nothing.”

Merlin nudged him again.

“It’s really nothing.”

Another nudge.

Arthur kept silent, watching the horses go about their work. His own horse was in the stables right now. Would Merlin let him take her with them? She was an animal, Merlin should want him to, right? “Do you like it here?” Arthur asked at last.

“In Camelot?” Merlin made sure.

Arthur nodded.

He saw Merlin shrug out the corner of his eye, “I guess. It’s a lot more closed in from what I grew up with. But it has it’s charms. Why? You kicking me out?”

If only he could. “I’m just wondering how long it takes for someone to make another home.”

Merlin sat up from his sprawl. “Is everything alright? You’ve been talking about leaving for a while now.”

“I just don’t want to go,” he said.

Merlin gave him a look, “Okay. And someone told you you were leaving?”

Not yet. “Has to happen at some point right?”

Another look, “I mean, I guess. You do have to go on quests and stuff. But you always come back here.”

For now. But what would happen when he wouldn’t? What would his father do with no heir? 

Probably try and make another if Arthur were honest. Why he hadn’t was still a mystery to Arthur. It wasn’t like there weren’t children in the lower town, maybe in other kingdoms that weren’t his half brothers and sisters. Yet only he was here, formally charged with sole heir to the throne. 

“I mean,” Merlin went on when the silence stretched, “I guess if you did have to leave, it’s not like it’s the end of the world. Just because you’re not a prince doesn’t mean you can’t be happy. I thought I would be miserable living here, but I’m not. I made friends, I go on adventures. Home isn’t always a place.”

Which was a fair point. But still not one Arthur wanted to hear about at that moment.

It stuck with him however, what Merlin said. When he found himself in a break during training he wondered what his life would be like without it. People didn’t age in the fae realm, so it was said, so it could stand to reason that as soon as Arthur stepped foot in there he’d remain the same as he always was now. He wouldn’t have to train. 

While he did enjoy it, there were some days that he wished he didn’t have to do it. Where he wanted a break, or the choice of whether to be there or not instead of an obligation because these were his men and his kingdom that he needed to train up to protect it and him. 

He wouldn’t have to do speeches anymore, crossed his mind a few days from then.

He wouldn’t have to sit in on boring meetings came later that afternoon.

He wouldn’t have to entertain visiting foreign dignitaries. Or at least pretend he was enjoying himself when they started on their crop haul last autumn.

He wouldn’t have to do a lot of things. He could just be him. Be Arthur. He could find out what it was he liked instead of being forced to like something because that was what princes were supposed to like.

Life would go on without him here, but himself? What did he want? What did he like? Maybe going somewhere new wasn’t wholly a bad thing.

It wasn’t like he would be alone either. He’d have Merlin. 

Just Merlin, which wasn’t wholly a good thing.

The weeks passed mostly liked that. Some days Arthur hated the very sight of Merlin and what he was waiting for. While others, like days where his father had singled him out in court, or he’d been forced to implement a new law he hated to his core, he wished Merlin would just take him already. He didn’t want to be here, he just, he was tired, so tired, and if a few minutes of discomfort meant he got to live the rest of it away from Camelot then so be it. 

“A disgrace,” Arthur repeated, his voice choking in his throat. He was happy no one was around to see him. After his father’s last verbal thrashing Arthur didn’t know how long he had before he was curling up in his window nook. He couldn’t handle this. All he’d done was tell his father there was no possible way they could kick out every orphan in Camelot. They had nowhere else to go. This was as much their home was it was Arthur’s, the only difference was that they lost the roof over their heads. 

He took a deep breath, then another when that got caught in his throat too, making his way over to his window. He needed air. 

The door burst open just before he reached it, Arthur’s back straightening before he turned to see it was just Merlin bustling through with what looked to be his nightclothes. 

Arthur’s hand was shaking when he brought it up to make sure his cheeks were dry. He wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t allowed to cry. Not because of something his father said. He was a prince. It wasn’t right.

“Arthur?” the door closed, Merlin’s hand moving like he was turning a key. Arthur heard the click, but he didn’t see a slither of metal in Merlins’ hands when he turned. Magic then. 

Idiot.

“Are you alright?” Merlin asked. It wasn’t the first time he’d walked in on something like this. Already Arthur could see Merlin gearing up to be yelled at.

The thing was however, this was Merlin. This was someone who was possibly the only friend he had, and if Merlin was planning on other things for him. If Merlin was going to eventually take him away from here and it be just the two of them, then maybe Arthur didn’t have to keep up the face his father had forced him into most of his life. Not here, alone. Not with Merlin.

He lurched forward before he thought better of it, knocking the wind out of Merlin from the sounds of it as he wrapped his arms as tight around him as he could. “I hate him,” Arthur said, “I really hate him.” His hands were shaking still as he latched them together, burying his nose in Merlin’s neck.

It took a while for Merlin to grab him back, but when he did there was no hesitance behind it, Merlin clinging just as hard as Arthur was. “It’s going to be okay.”

Someday it would be. But for now, “Why am I never good enough for him?”

“You are,” Merlin promised immediately, pressing himself closer. “It’s him that’s not good enough for you.”

Arthur sobbed out a laugh. A ridiculous idea. But Arthur appreciated the words anyway.

Merlin let him cling on for as long as he wanted, hesitantly asking Arthur to explain what had happened when they parted.

It was Merlin that eventually said he would go into town the next day and see about setting something up with some of the villagers. Maybe a home or something someone could look after that the children could spend their nights in. If they had a house, after all, they wouldn’t be street children.

Arthur appreciated the idea.

He even went down with Merlin the next day and siphoned a good bit of his revenue into the idea. It wasn’t like he was going to be sticking around forever, and he had more than enough money to keep him happy. 

Things weren’t weird, despite Arthur breaking down on Merlin. Merlin didn’t bring it up, or try and hug him throughout the day. He just let Arthur get on with his life, and Arthur appreciated that.

He also, maybe, started to look forward to the little ‘gifts’ Merlin would give or do for him. The flowers that got changed out when they were wilting. The fact Merlin still made requests of the kitchens for the other servants to bring up for Arthur’s breakfast or supper. The fact Merlin still personally groomed Arthur’s horse himself despite that not being his job anymore.

It was sweet. 

“Here,” Arthur kicked the chair out opposite himself, sliding the extra full plate over. “I don’t think I saw you eat today.” If fae’s even needed to eat. But then, why was there such a thing as fae food if they didn’t eat?

“Oh.” Merlin was grinning non stop as he sat, shovelling the first few mouthfuls down without even breathing. “This is really good.”

“And hot,” Arthur agreed, quite liking that about his routine these days. No more cold food. He swallowed his own bit of rabbit down. “So, I was wondering, when we...” maybe he shouldn’t bring this up. He wasn’t too sure Merlin even knew Arthur knew about him.

Merlin was hooked however, pressing, “when we what?”

“W-” he’d been thinking about how it would work, in the fae world. Would Arthur solely _be_ with Merlin, or were there others there that Arthur would be... shared, with? He honestly wasn’t quite sure how he felt about Merlin being shared around, but himself? So long as there were a few girls- then again, who knew what sort of women Merlin was into. “When we go riding, do you want to pass through Ealdor? Father has me searching for this cup thing. It would be quicker to go through Cenred’s land, and since there’s just the two of us, I thought we could go see your mother.”

Despite the fact Merlin knew that wasn’t what he wanted to say, he gladly ignored it in favour of giving Arthur another blinding grin, “do you mean it?”

He had actually planned on it being a surprise but, well, at least this way Merlin could bring whatever he wanted to bring to his mother instead of telling Arthur after that he’d been planning on it the next time they saw her. “It’ll be nice to see her.”

Merlin didn’t stop talking about Hunith for the next few days. He had a big bag packed when they did finally set off too, telling Arthur it was full of treats for her. He tried to find out what sort of treats as they travelled the two days to the quaint little village just beyond the border.

They must have had someone scouting out the distant riders since Hunith came running to greet them before they even reached the first house. She dragged Merlin into a hug first, Arthur looking for pointed ears or anything familial about them. Hunith did have the same eyes as Merlin, but maybe that was Arthur trying to read into something that wasn’t there.

He was hugged before he could think more about it, relaxing into it easily. “It’s so good to see you both,” Hunith said, “Your letter just arrived before your horses so I’m a little prepared. We have a bit more to eat this time Arthur, I’m sure you’ll be happy about that.”

He tried not to be, but, well, he had been brought up with a big appetite. “I’ll hunt you some rabbits before we leave. There’s no need to use a lot on us.” 

She waved him off, dragging them to her small house and warm fire.

It was good seeing Hunith. Grounding in a sense. Merlin loved her, that was obvious, and if she, too, was going to be crossing over with them back to the fae realm then Arthur could at least have two people to rely on. 

“I wish you would stop sending it,” Hunith said over supper that night.

Merlin turned a rather interesting shade of red, “It’s fine, and it’s not like I have use for it.”

“Still,” Hunith shook her head.

Arthur hadn’t actually thought about what Merlin did with the money he got from being Arthur’s manservant. It paid rather well, according to the castle. Save the king’s manservant it was the highest paying job after a guard. Arthur supposed Merlin wouldn’t have a need for money since he was, well, of the other realm. He didn’t have to save up for a house if this was just temporary, and since his meals were included in the job he didn’t have to pay for that either. 

“If it bothers you that much then I won’t send as much,” Merlin huffed, selfless man that he was.

“It’s sweet,” Arthur told him later. “That you’d do that for her.”

“She’s my mother,” Merlin told him. 

But what sort of mother was that Arthur wondered. Was she some sort of stand in mother, like those fae who kidnapped children? Was she his actual mother? His adopted mother? What sort of mother was she to him? “Still, it’s sweet. Especially because you could be using that money to buy yourself some decent blankets. I can hear you shivering from my room.”

He got kicked in the side for that, giving back as good as he got.

They stayed in Ealdor for three days, and promised to pass through on their way home again. Hunith sent them off with a warm breakfast and Arthur so relaxed he honestly had to look at the maps again to find their route.

The cup was a long trek, and an honest pain to find. In that time, Arthur came to a few conclusions, the first of which being that if he never had to do a quest again, he wouldn’t be mad about it. There was something nice about just being on horseback without a purpose. Yes, they were going back to Camelot now after almost dying, but they had nothing to rush home to. No one but Hunith, and when they got back to Ealdor, Arthur had never felt the way he did there as he did in Camelot.

He felt, he couldn’t even describe it, it felt like he’d been missed when he went to Ealdor. Like Hunith had been worrying about him not just Merlin. His father, while Arthur knew had to love him deep down, didn’t outright say so like Hunith did. He didn’t fuss over him and his new bruises when he turned up, or told him how stupid it was to risk his life over something as menial as a cup.

“Magic or not your father should be more careful with you Arthur. What use is glory if you end up dead?”

He had nothing to say to that. He always did when other people asked that question, but when Hunith did, he just sat there and ate his stew. What was the use of sending him on these missions? If he were the sole heir to Camelot and so precious a child, then surely his life was more important than glory? Surely his safety and the security of the kingdom was more important than some inanimate object that had been sitting docile for the last seventy years peacefully?

That night, in the light of the moon, he shuffled around until he was facing Merlin. He could do it, he thought to himself. He could run off with Merlin. Merlin who had chosen him out of everyone in Camelot. Who used his weird fae magic to keep him from harm. Who did his best to make sure Arthur was comfortable, happy, even.

He could do it.

“What?” Merlin mumbled, eyes still closed.

He could do it, he told himself, leaning over to slowly brush his lips against Merlin’s. It wasn’t as strange as he thought it would be. Like the rest of his unnatural appearance Merlin didn’t get cut lips like the rest of the world after being in the wild with limited water for days on end. He was soft, comforting in a way that kissing Gwen wasn’t. He felt good kissing Merlin, like things were finally settling in his mind. 

He could do it.

He leaned back to his bed roll, turning his back and bringing his blanket to his chin. “Night.” 

“Wh-” reached his ears before he was being rolled back over, Merlin’s eyes almost glowing as he blinked widely down at Arthur. “Night?” he repeated. Then, lowering his voice since his mother was literally a room over, “What do you mean night? You just kissed me! You just kissed me,” he said more to himself this time, “why did you just kiss me? Did you kiss me?” he squinted down at Arthur, “This isn’t some weird knightly bonding thing I don’t know about is it?”

Arthur let him ramble it out before turning back onto his side and letting Merlin panic the rest of his waking hours away.

When he woke it was to Merlin plastered to his back and a cold nose in his neck. The arms around his waist certainly made it one of the more peaceful ways he’d ever woken up, Arthur dragging himself from the blankets when he heard Hunith bustling about near the fire.

“I’ll do it,” he insisted, “You go back to bed. I have rabbits to fetch you today as well so don’t bother making anything for supper.”

She smiled at him, “You’re a good boy Arthur.”

Of course he was, which was why he let Merlin spend the whole day with his ‘mother’ instead of skinning the rabbits Arthur caught around late afternoon. Merlin also could have been sticking close to his mother under protest since he glared at Arthur as soon as he walked in, obviously still sore about being ignored last night.

He ate however, meaning Arthur wasn’t going to get any unexpected tricks played on him at some point. He also turned himself around when they settled in for their last night there so he was, once again, right up against Arthur’s back. If he was waiting for Arthur to complain that wasn’t happening anytime soon. Body heat in a house like this was a blessing, and while Merlin wasn’t the fattest man, he was long enough to provide some heat in places.

Merlin was in a sulk as soon as they started riding away from Ealdor. “We’ll come back soon,” Arthur promised. They had to in order to bring her to the other realm right? 

“Yeah.” He was still in a mood.

He would be until they reached their last camp of their adventure, the two of them sitting in the low light of the fire, Arthur wondering how his father was going to welcome him back. Would he be like Hunith? Or would he be how he always was? Cold, sending Arthur to get cleaned up and then showing him off like a prize horse to whichever noble was visiting that week.

“Arthur?” Caught his attention.

“Hmm?” 

He turned, Merlin already close enough Arthur was finding it hard to see without going cross eyed. He didn’t run from the kiss when it came. It wasn’t any different to last night, just a little longer, Merlin going that little farther by taking Arthur’s lower lip between his two and pulling when he sat back.

Merlin watched him closely after, searching for something. Arthur didn’t know what until he figured Merlin was probably seeing if Arthur was going to freak out. If he was going to run, or if he was ready to be taken away.

Was that it? Was that all it took? Merlin kissing him and realising that his plan had worked. That Arthur was well and truly wooed to his side of things.

He bit his lip, catching the bit of loose skin there and hoping the fae realm wouldn’t keep him entirely as he was. Or that Merlin would allow him a few weeks of sorting himself out before whisking him away.

Uther, indeed, did what he usually did when Arthur came back victorious. It was like he didn’t see the danger in sending his sole heir off on his own. Or simply didn’t care. Arthur had always known it was difficult for his father to look at him, when he’d been growing up it had taken until Arthur was seven for his father to say anything remotely nice to him Arthur reminded him so much of Ygraine. Maybe sending Arthur off had always been with the hope that he wouldn’t come back. That he could finally get one of his bastards in when he had no choice and start from scratch with a peasant that would be glad of the opportunity to follow his direction blindly.

Maybe Arthur was just bitter because as soon as he’d tried retiring early from his welcome home feast his father had started muttering about ungrateful sons and everything else he thought Arthur was. Things he’d only say after a drink, and somehow that made it worse. Was that what Uther was always thinking?

He didn’t know, and quickly found himself asking Merlin to stay, “Please?”

Merlin nodded, the two of them sitting around the fire until sun up. Arthur gave him the day off, the pair of them deserving it after what he’d been through.

Uther, it turned out, was in a mood. One Arthur had often tried to avoid when it reared its head growing up, but simply couldn’t through obligation and duties now he was older. He wasn’t the only one facing the brunt of it. While Arthur got undermined, yelled at in his own rooms and threatened to spend the nights in the dungeons if he didn’t start behaving Morgana was outright locked in her rooms. Arthur ended up picking her locks when it turned out no one was ordered to bring her food, telling Merlin outright that Morgana was fed before him, no excuses.

“If you have to steal a key or pick her lock just do it. Break it down if you have to, I’ll bear whatever punishment father gives me. Just feed her okay?” 

Merlin nodded, quickly scampering away so Arthur’s other servants could start cleaning his room.

“I hate him,” Morgana told him when he managed to sneak into her room for lunch.

“I know.”

There was a clatter, Merlin zipping in with two plates before closing the door shut almost as quickly as he entered. “Here,” he set them down, again doing that thing where he pretended to have a key to lock the door. “I think I heard something about one of the guards checking the door so I’ll just be...” he pointed to the antechamber Gwen sometimes stayed in.

“No,” Morgana nodded to a seat, “It’s fine, stay. It’s not like we’re going to be talking about anything important.”

Merlin hesitated a moment before sitting, and Arthur really felt for him since they really didn’t say anything important. Mostly it was Morgana ranting about Arthur’s awful excuse of a father. 

“We’re his subjects too. His duty as a king is to look after us not-” she sighed, Arthur still unsure what it had been that had gotten her locked up. If there had even been anything, for all he knew Morgana had probably been sitting there quietly and Uther just decided to attack her. It wasn’t unheard of. Although usually it was the pair of them, not just Morgana.

He told Merlin to stay again that night. “I can’t wait to get out of here,” he realised. 

Merlin looked up from where he was trying to sew his own shirt back together. “You’re going somewhere?”

Obviously not soon then. Shame. “You should get one of the others to mend that.”

Merlin snorted, “They’re my clothes, not yours. And they already made it perfectly clear they were only doing their own work, not any of mine.”

Arthur’s mouth twisted but he let Merlin struggle to mend his clothes in peace.

Uther’s mood passed with one loud, awful, argument that resulted in Merlin applying some sort of ointment to his eye. “What the fuck happened in there?” Merlin asked. He hadn’t been present. No one had been present but Arthur and Morgana, Uther asking for a private audience as he addressed what he expected of them going forward. Too bad for him he hadn’t been expecting a fight back, or a run down of his own behaviour these past few weeks.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Merlin snapped, dabbing more ointment onto Arthur’s eye. “Arthur what happened?”

He shook his head, sinking further into his bath. “I just got in the way. Trust me, if he was going to hit me, he wouldn’t have his hand open.”

It wasn’t split, but it was bruising slightly, Merlin wincing along with Arthur on every dab. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Arthur said again.

Hopefully it would be now.

More weeks passed with Merlin not mentioning anything about a trip. Maybe he would just take Arthur through the night. He’d just wake up and be in the fae realm. Maybe Merlin was waiting for the full moon or something mystical to open the gateway. 

Either way the weeks were stretching on and Arthur was getting more than a little peeved.

“Full moon tonight,” he prompted when it came. Then when that didn’t work, “Isn’t there some sort of festival the druids celebrate today?” More and more Arthur delved into the old lore to see if he could find anything that might give him a date he was going to be taken, and more and more those days passed and Arthur was still here. Still in Camelot, still with Uther and Morgana and- and-

Something had to be wrong. Maybe he hadn’t passed whatever test Merlin wanted of him. Maybe... maybe Arthur wasn’t who Merlin was trying to kidnap after all. He’d brushed off Morgana before, but maybe Merlin had only feigned an interest because he didn’t want Arthur to realise that it was Morgana that was his prize.

He didn’t know, and it was bugging him. 

Especially because it looked like round two of Uther’s bad mood was starting up. Rumour had it one of the neighbouring kingdoms had swept up Elena as a bride, meaning they got the alliance Arthur’s father had always wanted. It wasn’t really bad yet, but Arthur had to suffer through a lot of unwanted comments at dinner that evening and already was shaking so much he didn’t know if he could handle a full blown argument so soon after the last.

Merlin noticed something was wrong when he stepped in, abandoning the fire he was stoking to creep that little bit closer. Checking for bruises, probably, and if Merlin were really that bothered then why was Arthur still here huh?

“What is it?” Arthur demanded. “What’s wrong with me? Why am I still here?”

“Arthur...” Merlin scurried to the door, doing that locking thing again, which was honestly a good idea since he definitely didn’t want the guards to report back to his father anything that was said in here. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” since nothing had really happened yet. Nothing except Uther proving that Arthur still didn’t have a strong spine if stupid words were working him up this bad. “Nothing Merlin. Nothing’s happened. Why am I still here? What do I have to do? What-” 

“Arthur?”

“What do I have to do?” Arthur asked just shy of begging. “Merlin tell me.”

He shook his head, but let Arthur grab his arms when he did so. 

“Merlin tell me.” 

Merlin still shook his head, “I don’t-” Arthur kissed him before he could finish. 

There. Arthur was willing. He wanted this. He wanted Merlin, so why were they still here? “I want to go,” Arthur told him. “Please, I want to go.” He’d negotiate Morgana later, but right now he just didn’t want to be here. “Please Merlin.”

“Okay,” Merlin breathed against him. Nodding to himself Merlin said again, “Okay,” and untangled himself from Arthur. “I’ll grab horses and we’ll go, alright? We’ll just go somewhere quiet.”

Somewhere quiet? That was all they needed. “Okay.” he fetched his cloak, and his riding boots, meeting Merlin near the stables where the guards had already lowered the drawbridge for the two of them. 

He followed Merlin as they wound their way through the boisterous lower town, their horses hooves clomping over dirt instead of cobblestones as they reached the treeline. They went far enough in that the village could scarcely be heard, Merlin tying both their horses off.

His breath came a little shakily, he was actually doing this. Instead of dread in his stomach however was excitement. Peace even in the silence of the wood.

“Better?” Merlin asked, coming around to Arthur’s front.

He nodded. “Yeah.” Much better. “Now what?”

“Now?” Merlin repeated, rubbing his neck as he looked around, “I mean, I guess we could sit. Or we could find something else to do?”

Something else? Oh, maybe that was why Merlin hadn’t taken him. Kissing was only small after all. Maybe Arthur had to go all in before Merlin took him away. Show Merlin that he was willing to commit to it all.

He didn’t even have to think about it before agreeing, “Okay,” leaning forward to grab Merlin around the waist, kissing him as best he could. 

Merlin pulled away before Arthur could deepen it, “Are you sure you want to be doing that right no-”

He kissed Merlin again, kneeing him in the legs a little so Arthur didn’t have to strain his neck, “I wouldn’t be kissing you if I wasn’t sure Merlin.”

“Right,” Merlin breathed, staying of a height with Arthur. “Okay.” It took a few more seconds before Merlin kissed him back again, and after that things sort of just, happened.

Merlin was still breathing heavily when Arthur had the sense to pull his breeches back up. His eyes were open, which was a good sign. They were fixated on the sky above, the stars shining down into them.

Still their stars however.

He flopped back, figuring he’d best be direct. “I don’t care, okay. I don’t care that you’re a fae.”

Merlin was still breathing heavily when he squinted over at him, “What?”

“I don’t care,” Arthur told him. 

“Well I should bloody hope not,” Merlin muttered, “I mean, you’re one too now.”

“What!” Was that how it worked? They hadn’t even full on fucked. Was that really how fae’s were made? 

“Well, yeah,” Merlin droned, “I’m not exactly a woman am I.” He glanced down like he had to be sure. 

“Of course you’re not a woman,” Arthur snapped.

Merlin sat up, “Then I don’t see what the problem is.” Except a moment later he said, “Oh, I get it, you just don’t want to be called it. Look, I’m all for keeping secrets, but don’t you think Gwen should at least be notified that you’re... you know...”

What? Gwen? What did she have to do with this? “Merlin what are you on about?”

“Me?” His arm flailed out, “What about you? You’re the one who brought it up.”

“Brought what up?” Since it was apparent they were definitely having two different conversations.

“That I’m- and you’re now-” He gestured between them. 

“What?”

“That we like each other,” Merlin spelled out. “That we want to sleep with each other? You know, we’re ‘of the fae variety’,” Merlin said, almost word for word what that maid had months ago now. Merlin squinted at him, “Wait, what were you on about?”

No. No, no, no, no, no. He was an idiot. He was- 

“Arthur?” Merlin asked.

He didn’t answer, not sure what noise would come out of his mouth if he opened it right now. He buried his head in his knees. All this time. All this time he’d thought- and it hadn’t been- and Merlin wasn’t because of course he wasn’t because fae’s weren’t stupid enough to stay for near on three years in order to capture someone.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked again, Arthur feeling arms come around him. “Hey it’s okay.”

It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. If Merlin wasn’t a fae then what was he? He had magic, Arthur wasn’t stupid enough to put that thought back in its box. Merlin had magic. Merlin was a sorcerer. He let out a shaky breath. He was an idiot. All this time... all this time wasted because he didn’t understand castle slang.

He didn’t want to be there anymore. “I’m going back.” He couldn’t look at Merlin, he felt so stupid, so he just grabbed his horse and hoped no one had reported him leaving to his father.

His father! He felt like screaming. He’d finally found a way out and now, well, now that wasn’t happening.

He locked his door, falling onto his bed and hoping, maybe, that something took him in the night. Be that illness or some other magical creature lurking around.

He didn’t see Merlin at all the next day, and he did wake the next day he found out. He didn’t ask where Merlin was, unsure what he was going to do now. He didn’t even mind the magic, he’d moved past that months ago. It was the rest of it. The things that he found had been lurking in a few people’s heads even if Arthur had merely mentioned it once.

Merlin was waiting by the fire when Arthur got back from dinner with his father. The whole affair had been awful, and Arthur honestly wasn’t sure if he was ready to fight with Merlin too. 

Merlin didn’t look angry however, kicking a chair closer to Arthur. He locked the door before taking it, dragging it back to the warmth of the fire. Merlin lasted all of two seconds before a grin popped onto his face, “You thought I was a fae?”

“Shut up Merlin.”

“A real fae?” Merlin pressed. That grin was still there, but Merlin didn’t tease him anymore, “You didn’t hand me over to your father.”

“And I’m not going to,” he promised, knowing that for certain. At Merlin’s blank look, Arthur nodded to where no flint or steel were in sight, “I know you have magic.”

“H- how?”

Arthur rubbed his eyes, “Kind of came with the fae territory. Then I saw you do it a few times. Can’t believe I was so blind to it. You don’t even bother to hide it most of the time.”

Merlin’s face twisted. “You didn’t mind it?”

Arthur shrugged, “You didn’t hurt me did you?”

Merlin shook his head, even if Arthur hadn’t even meant it that way. “I’d never Arthur I-”

“I know.” He did, and now he knew what ‘fae’ really meant in Camelot and the fact Merlin didn’t hesitate humping him last night sort of showed that he wasn’t interested in hurting Arthur. “I know.”

Merlin nodded, the fire crackling as Merlin got his thoughts together. “You thought I was going to kidnap you, didn’t you? Gaius told me you were asking about kidnappings when you went to see him.”

Arthur didn’t deny it, nodding into his hands.

“You wanted me to,” Merlin went on.

“Can you blame me?” Arthur challenged.

Merlin blinked a few times before sighing into his chair. He’d seen what Arthur’s life was, and while it was great, it was, it was also awful. “I’m sorry,” Merlin said.

“You’re sorry?” Arthur laughed, “What are you sorry about?”

Merlin shrugged, “For not being able to help you. It’s so hard watching you struggle Arthur. I want to help, so bad, I’m meant to help you, and I can’t. So I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t take you somewhere nicer, where all you have to worry about is sleeping with me.”

He glared out of his hands, seeing the smirk that was painted across Merlins’ face, “Shut up.”

“I am sorry though,” Merlin promised.

Arthur nodded, “I know. I am too. I don’t even know how that made sense in my head.”

Merlin tilted his head, “I mean, I kind of see it.”

Arthur agreed, since Merlin really didn’t seem all that offended by the idea “You are weird. And an idiot. And suicidal for doing magic so openly in front of the entire kingdom. How have you gotten away with it?” 

Merlin didn’t look to know the answer either. He smiled after a while however. “It’s kind of nice talking about it. I never thought I’d be able to tell you.”

Arthur nodded. “You’re going to have to be more careful.”

“I know,” Merlin said, the two of them watching the fire for a while. “I’m still sorry,” Merlin said again. “I’m sorry I can’t take you away. But I can sit here when you need it, and take you away to, maybe not the fae world, but on spur of the moment hunting trips when you need it. I care about you Arthur.”

He nodded, thinking about the fact that he was going to have to face his father tomorrow in court. “Maybe we could go see your mother on one of those ‘hunting trips’?”

“Yeah?”

Arthur held his hand out between them, “Yeah.”

Merlin took it, their hands falling between them, “I think she’d like that. I’m not the only one she misses you know.”

In that case, it maybe wasn’t the fae world, but at least there was somewhere they could both retreat to. It was also nice, Arthur would come to know, that things were all in the open now. Arthur hadn’t known just how much Merlin kept from him until he was pacing his room explaining to Merlin seven different ways he could have used his magic without being seen.

It was also nice to have someone there, who wanted to see him happy. Who held him close on a night when Arthur tried to tell himself he shouldn’t let his father’s words get to him. Maybe he’d believed in the fae thing a little too easily because it was what he’d wanted, some way to escape against his own will from this prison around him. Maybe the truth wasn’t the best, that he was stuck here, living day after day in his father’s world, but, as Merlin told him repeatedly, he wouldn’t always be in his father’s world, and when that happened, hopefully he could start making this one better.


End file.
